The Feelies
by IvoryRose888
Summary: It's not often that she does it, but, when Maka finds herself alone a Christmastime, without the one who keeps her feeling warm and loved, she finds no problem with indulging in her secret pleasure... (SoulxMaka fluffy fluff eater)


_Tick Tick Tick_

Seconds, minutes, hours, _tick tick ticking _by, reminding her of each moment he was gone. 

It was winter break, and he had returned home to take care of some "family business" while he had the time off. She wanted to go with him, but he vehemently refused. He was like that whenever the topic of family came up. Cutting her off, changing the subject, and, occasionally, becoming uncharacteristically angry or uncomfortable. He did all of the above during their parting conversation on Friday when she insisted that she should meet his family. She couldn't understand why he was so difficult. They had been partners since they were young, living together for just as long, and not once had she met his family. He usually infuriated her with his pointless reasons. One look into his pained eyes, though, and she had realized that this trip wouldn't be an easy one, so she had let it go, this time. 

So, here she found herself, alone in their apartment. 

During the holidays. 

Her mother was who knows where, still travelling the world to avoid her father, and the perpetrator himself was probably holed up in the cantina for the holidays, being the awful parent that his reputation held him to be. Really, though, she'd rather be alone than with either of them. The holidays made Kami unreasonably bitter and oversaw Spirit's worst drunken episodes. 

Better to be alone than in such company. 

Better to be alone… 

That worked for the first day, but, by the third and now fourth day, the loneliness was becoming suffocating. She needed something, something to break this atmosphere and fill her soul with the warmth she felt when Soul was around. Something… 

Though she was completely alone in the apartment, she crept into his room on the balls of her feet, taking painstaking caution. She knew he didn't like for his things to be messed with, but it was the fourth day of his five day absence and she missed him more than she would ever admit (to him or to herself.) 

With this motive tucked into her subconscious, she slipped into his room, hoping to find in it somewhat decent shape. As was expected, it looked like a miniature tornado blew through the bedroom, but, luckily for her, he had left his favorite track jacket draped haphazardly over the back of his desk chair, right next to the door. 

She gingerly lifted the jacket from the chair and slid her slender arms into the mustard colored sleeves, taking great care not to disturb anything else as she hugged the sleeves to her body. Burying her nose in her crossed arms, she inhaled deeply, absorbing his scent, praying for some kind of relief from the longing that plagued her. 

Exhaling slowly, she peered around the room, hoping to glimpse the aged machine sooner than later. She slowly lowered herself to the floor and was rewarded when the glimmer of the needle caught her eye. She should have known he'd keep it under his bed. 

Crawling to the bedside, she reached under the mattresses and gently pulled out his aged record player, plunging back in moments later to uncover his favorite jazz records. 

Her arms loaded with her secret pleasure, she dashed into her own room and placed the player on her bed, sifting through her arm load of records to find one she recognized. 

In just moments, the pitches of a jazzy piano filled the silent air, enveloping her in the familiar notes and rhythms. She lay on her bed, outfitted in his warmth and scent, and allowed the tunes to carry her away… 

Soul trudged through the door at a little past 10 that night, exhausted and frustrated and home a day early. His parents could be the rudest, most uncooperative, hateful- 

His internal tirade screeched to a halt when he detected the musical pitches wafting through the still air. Familiar…Were those his records? Was Maka playing his records…with his record player?! 

"Ooh Maka," he growled, his temper still flaring from the face-off with his parents. 

He stomped to her bedroom door, took a breath to try to compose himself, (yelling at a girl for such a petty reason was NOT cool at all) and pushed the door open. 

He pulled up when he saw her. 

She was curled up on the side of her bed, facing away from him, breathing deeply and steadily as the soft jazz tones continued to waltz through the air around them. When he saw her, curled so innocently, snuggled so contentedly into his jacket, the fury vanished and all signs of his previous strain evaporated. A small grin tickled at his lips as he crossed to her side, turned off the record player, and settled next to her on the bed. 

He tenderly slid his arms around her, grinning once more when her jade orbs fluttered open. For a moment, she froze, looking guilty and shy (and…almost fearful) all at once. Her eyes glistened precariously and would not meet his own, so he tenderly tilted her face toward his, making sure she realized he wasn't angry. 

Once she absorbed his laid-back grin, she flashed him a weary smile of her own, scooting herself closer to him so he could fully envelope her in his warm embrace. 

Gently kissing the top of her head, he chuckled and teased, "You know, if you really missed me that much, you could've called me, and I would've come home before I left." 

She giggled, burying her head in his chest and breathing in his scent once more. 

Placing another kiss on her golden-ash locks, he began to rub her back and whispered, "I love you, baby," as she slowly dropped off once again, safe and content in her lover's arms.


End file.
